Off the Wagon

Last night it went down like this...


I was about 20 minutes away from finishing dinner when Nathan said, "I'm going to Tesco to get some eggs."


"Okay. Can you get a few things for me, too?"


"Yeah, sure."


"You want to write this down?" I motioned to a pencil and scrap of a receipt with my wooden spoon.


"Pshht! I've got a great memory."


*a look* 


His memory is quite selective. He remembers long quotes and passages from books, but he has a hard time remembering pretty basic things sometimes (e.g. asking me no less than seven times who is coming for dinner or what we're doing this weekend or the name of someone we know quite well). He claims it's a listening problem rather than early onset Alzheimer's disease, which is what I thought it was when we first got married. The good thing is he knows he's not the best at remembering things, and he tries really hard to concentrate when I tell him something is important. 


"No, seriously. Try me! With my special memory trick I bet I can remember everything... up to five things."


"Okay... bananas, coconut milk in a carton - not a can..."


"Wait... where would that be?"


"On the milk aisle. Next to the regular milk. It's by the almond milk and soy milk and all that."


"Okay. Bananas, coconut milk in a carton. What else?"


"Cilantro. Shampoo. I think that's it."


I saw him muttering to himself for a little while, creating a crazy story using the items on the grocery list as a cast of characters. Then he said, "Where would the coconut milk be?"


I know he doesn't repeat questions to annoy me on purpose, so I usually repeat my answers just the way I did the first time, with the same inflection and tone and everything.


"On the milk aisle. Next to the regular milk. It's by the almond milk and soy milk and all that."


"You just said that, didn't you?"


"Mmhm..."


"Sorry. Okay. I'll be back in a sec." He walked out the door muttering, muttering, muttering the story.


The dinner was nearly done when he was back with everything I asked him to get, plus some sausage and grapes that were on clearance.


But no eggs, the single item he was going to Tesco for in the first place.


We laughed, which was good. We needed a good laugh. The weekend was a hard one. One where I was particularly difficult to live with. Monday wasn't any better. The weight of grief that came with Mother's Day surprised me. The grief wasn't surprising. The weight of it was. I suppose it was understandable. Next month will mark three years of waiting for a little one. Forty two cycles of hope and disappointment. I've been keeping track.


My first Mother's Day this year (the UK celebrates in March) I did okay. I teared up at church, but no spill-over tears. This one was different. I was angry, irritable, weepy, hypersensitive, pessimistic, perpetually annoyed. But then Nathan forgot the eggs, and I caught a glimpse of sunshine after four days under a dark cloud.


After dinner, I said, "I'll tell you what. Let's go back to Tesco with a fiver. You can buy the eggs and get a treat with the change. We'll make it a date."


We went. We picked out eggs. He contemplated buying - and I'm not kidding - Posh Birds brand duck eggs, but we stuck with the cheapest pack of 15 caged chicken eggs, as usual. Nathan's like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. He eats a lot of eggs.


He took me by the hand and walked me over to the flowers, saying he wanted to spend the change on me, but the ones in our price range were dying and/or ugly. So went went toward the beer. So much for love! However, just before the beer is the ice cream. On an end cap was a glass case full of Magnum bars, which were half off. We had enough for a 3-pack of Magnum bars and a Heineken. 


I hemmed and hawed and danced around saying I couldn't break my Whole30 diet, I just couldn't. And that he wouldn't be leading well as the head of our family if he brought those quality creamy chocolatey dreams into the house.


Back in the kitchen, he poured his beer into a glass, we tore open the plastic packaging, "cheers"ed the Magnum bars, held them aloft, and toasted to freedom in Christ before the first delectable bite.

Credit

Regret did settle in fairly quickly. I was on Day 22 out of 30 without a single cheat for crying out loud. But I didn't die of a sugar overdose... or happiness for that matter. I think it was worth it just so I could tell you this story. 


Back on the wagon today...